The Story Of Evil
by VocaloidSWEETIE
Summary: "Know this Rilliane, this heart only beats for you. The breath I breathe is only so for you to put to use in whatever way you see suitable. My body, my soul, my heart- whatever remains of these things, they are your's." The tears never stop falling, just as the heads never stop rolling. A new retelling of the classic Story of Evil tale.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Yeah... this is what I've been doing instead of working on From Here I Stand. Why did I start writing another mulitchapter fic? *SIGH* I'm hopeless aren't?**

**Anyways, this is my take on the Daughter Of Evil series. Took a little bit of this and a little bit of that from the original story and some of the stuff from different videos of the song I've seen on Youtube. I love Vocaloid. Why haven't I done a fanfic about them before? EH... Hope my fellow Vocaloid fans will like this~ **

**As this is based on Akuno-P's original story and characters, I've decided to use the names that were given to the Vocaloid. The following is a list of names with the characters they depict. This list will be put in each chapter and be added on too with each new character that is introduced. **

**Kagamine Rin**\- _Rilliane Lucifen d'Autriche_

**Kagamine Len- **_Allen Avadonia_

**Sweet Ann- **_Anne Lucifen d'Autriche_

**LEON- **_Leonhart Avadonia_

**The Queen Mother is a made-up character by me. And Arth is not represented by a Vocaloid. **

_**P.S I DONT OWN ANYTHING :)**_

* * *

**Prologue: THIS IS A STORY OF ONCE UPON A TIME**

The women's sharp piercing screams echoed throughout all of the palace. Mid-wives scrambled to and fro from each corner of the room to be of some use. The female doctor nested in front of the shrieking women's parted legs, would yell out with every minute that crawled by, "Push Your Majesty! Push!"

The fair haired Queen of Lucifenia gripped the silk sheet of her bed and shouted out in agony. A maid rushed to open a large window, and when she did so, the large mass of people stationed outside the palace gates, yards away, let out a cry of joy.

"Hear that Your Grace?! They are cheering for your baby! Push!" The doctor insisted and let out her own cry of joy.

"I see a head!"

Throwing her head back, the queen shut her blue eyes and pushed with all the strength she had until- "Thank the Lord! It's a girl Your Majesty!" The Queen let out a rugged gasp at the news and felt the thick stands of sweet start to prick her eyes.

The doctor wrapped the baby girl in soft cloth and moved over to pass her off to a nurse-maid. The nurse stared down and was surprised at the beauty of the child even through the aftermath of the birth. The baby girl had eyes so blue they would shame the sky on its fairest day, and sunshine hair. She cracked a smile as the baby squirmed and cried at the top of her little lungs. The princess definitely had strong lungs, she was so loud!

_(she will be a strong ruler)_

The nurse blinked out of her daze and quickly moved to wash the babe then feed her.

The doctor wiped the sweat from her brow and her eyes slide over to the whimpering Queen.

An old women sitting on the other side of the room on an elegant couch, nodded her approval. Her face stayed neutral, yet a chilling coldness remained attached to her being as she made her way to the gold encrusted door. A maid hurried over to open it for her when just as the Queen breathed out a pained moaned.

The older women stopped in her tracks and slowly turned an icy gaze to the ruler. The doctor rushed back to aid the Queen. She looked at her and asked in a calm voice what was wrong.

"The pain! The pain! I-It still hu-hurts! Argh!" Her blue eyes spilled tears of pain onto her cheeks as she clutched her teeth and screamed once again. The elder women walked back to the Queen's side and stared down at her with warning look in her eye.

The doctor frowned and placed a hand to the women's abdomen, it stayed settled for a second until a small movement that pushed up on her hand. "Another child…" she whispered in astonishment.

The women stared at her daughter with a sneer ripped on her upper lip... "Anne… Don't you dare mess up now." She hissed softly in distaste.

_(messupmessupmessupmessupmessup)_

In a flash, the doctor was reseated at the Queen's legs, but this time, there was no need for encouragements, the baby practically slide into her waiting arms. She looked down to find out its sex, but the Queen's mother had already seen.

_(don't mess up)_

"_Everyone get out_!" The Queen Mother screeched and the words clawed themselves into the ears of every person in the room. People left the room by drones until finally all that was left was the panting Queen and her mother. And, of course, the newborn.

The newborn had been left in the arms of Anne as the doctor had abandoned her help to flee along with the others from the room. So, Anne gawked, wide eyed, at her young babe. It was just as beautiful with its counterpart; blonde, blue eyed, fair skin with the pink smear of its cheeks, and- boy.

"It's a boy…" Anne's mouth fell open and her throat had gone dry. The speed of her heart started buzzing through the thin cloth of her white birthing dress.

The Mother Queen slapped the young mother across the face before speaking in a deadly voice, "Give it to me. Now." She held out wrinkled hands, which were adorned with several rings on each hand.

Anne bit down hard on her bottom lip and held the baby tightly to her breast. The stinging of her cheek was only a small bother against the dreaded fear in in her heart. "No."

The grandmother slapped her again and grabbed a fist full of blonde hair. "I will not give you my child mother!" Anne snapped at her, trying to twist away, but the effort was futile as her mother used her free hand and held her daughter's chin in an iron grip.

"You know the curse on this family girl." The former queen spat to her daughter. "Every one of the men born into this line will bring ruin to our kingdom. My grandfather started the War of Blue Tears, my brother ruined the only hope of a treaty with Marlon, and my sons," her face contorted in disgust, "your brothers, humiliated us! Jacques dared marry a disease ridden male prostitute and made us the laughingstock in all the blasted kingdoms! He made our kingdom of Lucifenia look like an immoral freak show! And let us not forget that Louis-Charles sold the Yellow Islands to _Elphegort_." Her mother practically gagged on the neighboring country's name.

"And what did they get in return girl?" Her voice become low hiss in Anne's ear. The new mother lay there, holding her baby boy to her heart. He cried into her shoulder, and she did her best to calm him by softly rubbing her hand on his back.

She's not going to let this witch take him.

"Death by their own damned stupidity." The silver haired women tossed back Anne's head and bore her eerie ice blue gaze at her. A razor sharp smile stitched itself on her thin lips. "The only thing your husband and cousin, the King, succeeded in was getting killed off in battle."

Anne growled deep in her throat, the noise was so animistic that she felt a mild surprise that it had come from her. Yet the brute fury boiling in her veins was fitting. No one dare mock Arth in her kingdom.

"Give me the boy. I will dispose of him now, never will one of the men in this family be worth the embarrassment of Lucifenia." The Mother Queen tilted her head towards the door with something like sensible thought written on her face. "Yet I suppose it is our luck that you haven't managed to completely ruin us. The girl will do nicely." Her ice eyes shot back towards Anne with the same withered sneer.

"Nay mother. I will not give my child to the arms of death simply because of your crazed notions of a curse upon our line." The baby in her arm cried louder, but still, the Queen did not look down at him. She met her mother's sharpened stare with her own.

"That thing in your arms will destroy everything!" The older retorted back.

Anne glared through damp lashes. "You let your sons live."

Her mother's face stayed impeccably blank, which made Anne's stomach churn. "I was _weak_. I should've strangled them myself the moment they left my womb." Anne's mouth fell open in her own disgust. This women was a monster. "However I did not, and thus, our kingdom has fallen from the heights it once had. We were almost gods in this world Anne. Gods! Look at us now, a meager nation, barely making it in this ungrateful realm. Give the boy to me now, and we still can come out on top, the girl is a beauty, and I know in my bones that she will lead us all back to our former glory… She will bring our family to its rightful place as idols. I will teach her how to rule this kingdom and I shall raise her to her fullest potential."

A sharpened smirked was painted onto Anne's lips. "I will die before I shall let you touch either one of my children. You cruel witch, I will never let you corrupt my daughter as you have done to my sisters or I," Anne spat out the words like blades, "Nor shall you punish my son for this so-called curse on this family! I will not let him die!"

"Then I will kill you and the boy." The royal half whispered. She took half a step towards her daughter, and by the look placed her mother's face, for the first time Anne not only felt a fear for her children, but for herself.

Her mother was willingly to kill her.

The baby in her arms whined and cried louder, making Anne stare down at the babe in despair. His mouth was wide opened and his screams seemed to just flow out with ease.

Damn it all to hell_._

_Help me Arth. _The thought came in an instant as Anne snapped her head up to caught her mother reaching for them.

"Send him away."

The mother Queen paused and a throaty laugh tore out of her body. "I am not a simpleton, girl. I know that as soon as he comes of age, or when I die, you will bring him back, and everything would fall back to how it would've been." The women's smile was a snake's, no teeth showed, and her thin lips were more of a drawn line on her face.

Anne held up her head, unwilling to let her mother's horrid words show how they affected her. "Then you shall pick who he will be sent to, and if it is your choice, do not breath a word to me. I know the power you hold in my court mother, I'm sure you can keep the secret from my ears. And I will swear, that in exchange for his life, I will not look for my son."

The women was silent as her daughter finished the words. For the first time, her ice orbs dropped down to the newborn…. Oh how perfect he was. He would've made a good king. Perhaps.

_(oh how cruel their world is)_

As the idea became to fill into the cracks of the old women's thoughts, the ideal contestant was shown in her mind's eye. All of the lies were weaved, and oh… how perfect they all had fit together, a beautiful quilt to cover up this whole mistake.

The boy went on crying until finally, Anne started to rock him and murmur a song to his ears. _Lively flowers, sweetly in bloom, with an array of perfect hue. Even though the flower is so very refined, others have driven it to decline_. Anne sang the rest of the olden melody to her son. A single tear dropped from her crystal eye at the realization that her son will never again hear the ancient tune.

The old queen almost rolled her eyes at the sight. "Dry those pitiful cries daughter. Your son will die young," Anne's bottom lip trembled, "as all the men baring the royal blood of Lucifenia do. Just not by my hand it seems," She held her arms out. "I will do as you say, yet from now on, I will chose the paths he will take. Your daughter will also be put under me of course."

Anne tighten her grip on the baby, closing her eyes briefly as she did so. A decision was made in this moment and so when the Queen opened her eyes, she forced a stiff nod and placed her son in her mother's waiting arms.

Eyeing the now noiseless infant, the Queen Mother stepped back to a corner of the bedroom. She knocked sharply on a part of a wall, and it propped open at the contact. "Let it be known that the second child of King Arth and Queen Anne has died shortly after birth." A crocked grin was sewn on her grim features. The women stepped into the darkness, leaving Queen Anne weeping into her hands.

"Farewell son…" she sobbed with a deep set feeling of mourn in her soul. "Alexiel."

* * *

**SWEET CHILD 'O MINE**

Rilliane tugged a white clover from its home in the green field. She saw that this particular clover still had tints of green on the petals, indicating its youth. Nonetheless, a wide grin of triumph filled her lips as she held up the flower.

"Mother! Mother! Look! Isn't it pretty?!" She jumped up from her place in the meadow and raced to the large oak tree where her mother and number of servants were set out at.

Queen Anne smiled at her tiny daughter as she tilted her head at the small present the girl presented her with. "Do you love it mother?" The tiny Princess demanded to know. Rilliane stared at her mother with a hard questioning expression, as if the wrong words were spoken, a fit was likely to be seen.

Her mother took off her white gloves to reveal equally white, and beautiful, hands before taking ahold of the weed. "It's very beautiful Rilliane." She eyed the plant briefly then held it close to smell the aroma. Rilliane stood, hands on hips, with pure pride in her sky eyes. The shiny blackness of her sleek shoes shone against the sun, and the Queen felt a warmth bubble inside her chest at the sight of her child's innocence.

(the sight reminded her of a what if)

Anne stared out into the large meadow set before her and breathed in the floral scented breeze that come her way. Flickers of her long hair brushed against her face because of this. She watched the way the flowers and grass swayed to the wind, almost dancing to invisible music. If Anne let her mind wonder, only just a little, she could spy two people, a young man and a small boy, hand in hand, laughing as the sun's light caused a glare on their canary yellow hair.

Her lips broke into a smile and a giggle passed through her mouth. She stood slowly and took a step into that direction. "Rilliane, come child." The little girl frowned, peering over at the void spot her mother was staring so intensely at. "Our family-"

"Majesty?"

A brown haired man in blood red armor appeared before the royals, his face one of curiosity and slight worry.

Queen Annie blinked with surprise at the interruption, turning her head at general for a moment before looking back at her husband and son. An empty space met her eyes instead and she regarded the spot, feeling toyed with by fate and destiny.

Then, in a swish of a hummingbird's wings, Anne looked at Leonhart with the typical mask of a royal Lucifenian Queen. Her small smile was plastered onto her face as she slipped on her gloves back on her hands. It would be improper otherwise.

When it seemed that the Queen had come back from wherever her mind had slipped away too, Leonhart's concern damped slightly. He smiled back swiftly while forcing every inch of himself to set aside the apprehension.

He settled a hand on the hilt of his sword while his other arm rested against his armor, resulting in a clunking echo of the two pieces coming together. He gave a deep bow at the waist to both his Queen and Princess. The elite general then straightened up, a grin showing on his normally serious face. "Ah Leonhart," The Queen eyed the man, that formal small smile easing lightly into something more natural, "Finally come to visit your Queen have you not?"

The soldier's eye held a sparkle of laughter. "I would have come to join you sooner Your Majesty, but alas, the dealings of the kingdom never stop as you know." Anne hide her chuckle behind her silk fan, forcing away the images that twirled behind her lids every time she blinked.

Rilliane cleared her throat loudly, her puffed out pink cheeks due to the fact that she was receiving no attention at all from the newcomer.

Clearing her throat again in a non-ladylike gesture, the Princess stood tall next to her mother's side and held her small hand out to the general. "General Leonhart, you may kiss my hand now." She pushed her royal nose to the sky and keep a tiny pout on her mouth.

The Queen and general looked at the Princess in slight disbelief for an instant before laughing. Anne bit down on her lip and waved the fan somewhat more, for it appeared the laughter was adding to her heat.

Yet despite the merrymaking going on, Anne's gaze kept falling back to the place where she saw the missing members of her family. She could feel the longing so strongly, a harsh churn of her stomach made her almost forget what was happening before her. But suddenly, when she saw the way her daughter was looking proudly at them, the Queen remembered and made quick to relax.

The last thing she needed was for Leonhart to fret over her mental health as well as her physical. The exhausting price of birthing twins had yet to leave her body along with the "death of her spare a stillborn." Her deal with the devil still haunted her existence to this day, six years later. She was constantly in a state of pain, nightmares, and tremors… Her body was never robust, as she had a weak heart, so many had thought she wouldn't have survived her pregnancy but she held on with all of her will.

_(she is her mother's daughter after all)_

General Leonhart didn't notice her haze, instead regarding the petite Princess. The general let his laughter boom from his throat. The man kneeled before the tiny royal saying, "Oh of course Your Highness! I beg of you to find it in your merciful heart to forgive my insolence to the crown!" He pecked the back of her gloved hand.

Cheeks now filled with pink, Rilliane smiled innocently. "Perhaps only this once." With her desire of attention now fulfilled, Rilliane turned away from the adults and strutted away to the table laid out with desserts. There was a strong sway of her nonexistent hips as she did so.

Leonhart grinned, "She is strong-willed, a perfect example of an ideal Queen." Anne watched her daughter then moved her sight back to the browned haired man.

"She is also cunning, too opinionated and worst of all, selfish and prideful." The last word was almost a whisper on her lips. "My mother's touch has yet to fade from my child Leonhart, and I am fearful of it. Rilliane… she has the same traits as that witch." The Queen eyes were on Leonhart, but she was viewing something else, something far away.

Leonhart narrowed his eyes. "My Queen, if I may speak freely…?"

That brought her back in a flutter of an eyelid. The Queen sighed, flicking her wrist for him to speak.

"Your mother did raise the Princess but it has only been a year since her death, and only a year since the princess has been returned to your custody. Rilliane is only 6 years old, I know that in due time and with proper teachings from you, she will quickly shape into the young women you have wished her to be from the start."

Anne looked away from her old friend, the yellow and white fan hide her deep set frown from him and it gave her a look of boredom that had taken years to perfect. The fan also hid the fact that her mind was racing with feelings.

Leonhard caught on to this and glanced around. Rilliane was seated in a smaller version of the Queen's chair.

She seemed to be chatting happily to the number of stuffed toy animals at her feet. Her governess kneelt beside the girl, smoothing and rearranging the Princess' tousled dress. The women carefully pressed and fluffed the child's white and pale orange garb. She even fixed the flower decorated bonnet that had moved from its rightful position.

As she did this, she asked the Princess simple questions. " says her family well is dry," came her reply to the women's inquiry on what the blue bear dressed in a large dress was speaking of.

"Then what will you do as her ruler?" The question was asked in the realms of innocent childish play, but the seriousness behind it was apparent.

"I will tell her to stop being fat and taking all the water!" Rilliane declared with a snigger. The governess corrected her at once, leaving the girl pouting and red with anger at being wrong.

"I believe she is only lonely and needs… to be lead in the right path."

The Queen looked up at from behind her fan. "If she had more children her age to interact with, I'm sure her demeanor would change."

"Pray tell then, what is the right path my dear general?" Her brows lowered as her eyes narrowed at him in skepticism. Her hand not holding the fan stayed limply in her lap.

The general nodded, sure of what he was saying. "I would say my daughter, but Majesty, she is an older girl who is stubborn and hardheaded herself. I doubt she and the Princess will be a match. They would buttheads too often and most likely tear the other down." Leonhart's mouth twitched, almost forming a smile. "I trust that Her Highness needs a companion that will be patient and wordlessly show her good judgment."

"I can disagree with that General, maybe a girl of equal personality will help her straighten up some." Anne interrupted, swallowing a dry lump in her throat, and ringing a silver bell set up on a small table beside her. A butler came up with a gold platter in hand. He bent down to the Queen's level, allowing her to grab one of the tall crystal wine glasses set there. She slipped the sweet nectar, but it did little to resolve the spinning feeling going on in her head.

Something… something felt wrong. For half a second, Anne thought she saw Arth's face, grinning at her again. But the image disappeared too fast.

She blinked rapidly, hoping to shake off the horrid foreboding loaming over. Anne placed the cup back onto the platter, waving off the servant and nodding to Leonhart. "Yet I feel you have someone else in mind General…"

"My son, Majesty…." His words faded from her ears as small specks of black spattered across her vision. The darkness spotted her vision at an alarming rate, and along with that came a thick taste of blood on her tongue. She gagged harshly, worried for a thought that the contents of her stomach would flow out. The heat ate at her from the inside. There was a fire inside of her weakening body and she had a feeling that… she wouldn't make it this time.

Leonhart gasped, quickly drawing the attention of several servants. Most of whom met the Queen's actions with startled horror.

Abruptly, a pain, so fine and so stingingly clear, stuck her side with the force of a hurling boulder. Her throat tightened to a point where it felt like it closed. Her hands clawed painfully at her neck, moving from gurgling and coughing. A dry and hot sensation overtook her body as the world started to shake and tilt sideways, falling away to a chaotic world. Her blue eyes rolled back inside her head, leaving a haunting image to those around her. White foam formed on her paling lips as beasty cries came out as grunts from her mouth.

"Mother?!" Rilliane screamed from behind Leonhart.

"Majesty!" Leonhart cried, reaching over to take hold of his Queen as she started to slip from her chair. "Get a damn doctor!" He barked at a unmoving maid, she screamed in reply, and others echoed, but she ran off, hopefully in search of a doctor.

"Majesty! Stay with me Anne!" Leonhart cursed loudly as his head snapped up. "Where's the doctor!?"

Anne continued to spasm in his arm for what seemed like an eternity. In the split moment that she stilled, Anne grasped at Leonhart's uniform.

"Mother?" Rilliane whispered behind them, a tremor caught in her small voice. At that moment, her governess swooped her up in her arms and hurried away. "No! Mother! What's wrong with her! Stop stop stop _stop_!" The little girl struggled against her, blaring out ear-piercing bellows all the way through the bedlam.

_(stop)_

She heard him before she actually spotted him. Arth stood behind Leonhart, the same tender and firm look on his handsome face. He brushed a hand through her hair, a gesture that was so familiar when he was here. Anne vaguely wondered if their son would look like the noble and kind man in front of her eyes. A tear spilled from her eye.

Queen Anne was dying. There would be no miracle this time. She realized this at the dejected air surrounding her dear Arth.

With all of her lingering power, her hand reached out blinding to the general. Her hand laid flat out on his scarlet armor. Beckoning him close to her white lips, she breathed "Sav… them…" Please save them…. Arth gently took her hand and the darkness seeped into her eyes for one last time.

Her grasping hand lost its grip on Leonhart, and her eyes turned vacant. Her lips stayed parted for words that would never leave her mouth.

Leonhart gaped down at the unmoving Queen in his arms, agony blossomed onto his features slowly and painfully. Realization soon stopped by and the man was left holding her as people finally paused in their panic and stood frozen at the pair.

_Long live the Queen._


	2. Chapter 2

**As this is based on Akuno-P's original story and characters, I've decided to use the names that were given to the Vocaloids. The following is a list of names with the characters they depict. This list will be put in each chapter and be added on too with each new character that is introduced.**

**Kagamine Rin- **_Rilliane Lucifen d'Autriche_

**Kagamine Len- **_Allen Avadonia_

**Sweet Ann-**_ Anne Lucifen d'Autriche_

**LEON- **_Leonhart Avadonia_

**MEIKO-**_Germaine Avadonia_

**KAITO-**_ Kyle Marlon_

**Gackpo Camui- **_Gast Venom_

**P.S.S I DONT OWN ANYTHING :) More A/N at bottom.**

* * *

**Chapter 1: RETURN TO ZERO**

The first time he saw her, it was at the Queen's funeral.

It was a grand thing for sure. The ceremony was beyond anything he had seen so far with all of his 6 years. His older sister held his clammy hand (he was a bit nervous being around so many people) tightly in her own as they stood in the crowd of mourners. He felt like they were copies of each other, both wearing black to accommodate the occasion. He might've been insensitive, their beautiful Queen had died after all, but he was only 6. He didn't understand death too well back then. Or care too much about it.

That would change.

He knew this was something of a mature level, because besides of all the people sobbing and shouting about the unfairness of the world, his sister wore a dress.

She usually worn trousers, and thus, this spoke out in volumes about the seriousness of the situation. His elder sibling was the very- er how do he put this- boyish…. for the use of a better word.

Germaine lived and breathed the way of the sword just like their father. General Leonhart was a mighty force to reckon with, and for as long as he could remember, he had been the man they both looked up too. So, despite being a girl,

Germaine was better at swordplay than he was, though he often contributed that part due to her being 5 years his senior...

But back to the funeral.

Commoners weren't allowed to step inside the Royal Church without some type of permission, so hundreds of people stopped at the gates of the cathedral, only standing there to watch the huge glass carriage bringing forth Queen Anne. It was built specially for the deaths of important members of the kingdom. It was decided long ago that knights couldn't simply carry the royals in their massive casket anymore, because those of inferior blood couldn't come inside the cathedral, it wouldn't allow the lower classes a last glimpse to their monarch. And people in Lucifenia sure did love their monarchs.

An idiotic reason, but it has lasted this long for some reason, he guessed.

Germaine tugged him further through the crowd, coming up to the guards dressed in black, their signature yellow coloring in their uniforms toned down to lining the inside, something he saw when one tried searched him. Something he immediately started to do when he saw that we weren't noblemen. When he reached for Germaine, she practically snarled at the poor solider, her lips curling back to show off teeth. The guard looked about ready to have them dragged away and thrown into the river that run next to the church.

Germaine then, with great disgust at whole thing, passed the man their papers, signed with their father's droopy handwriting.

She clicked her tongue on the roof of her mouth when the man passed them a dry look. The guard's glance stopped on her, clearly making mental excuses to just let them in. Allen's big sister could be fierce at the drop of a hat.

"Little monsieur, mademoiselle." He nodded stiffly to Germaine, to which she replied with the snatching back of the papers, grumbling under her breath.

That's another thing he enjoyed about Germaine- even at that age; she wasn't scared of anything. During a time where grown men where sobbing, where even their father had lost a gleam in his brown eyes, she only appeared angry at something.

He caught myself wondering this for a second before she dragged them through the elegantly carved wooden doors. "Hurry up Allen," she snapped loudly, bring to their attention the glare of many aristos. Their pale faces were layered in white paint make-up with crimson blotches on their fat cheeks, and overall, making him duck away from their looks.

They looked weird.

Even though Germaine and he were children to a man from the palace (an important one at that), he never really spent much time there. Hence his lack of option on the noblemen and women. Father once said he was waiting for the right time to introduce him to the Queen and the Princess. Looked like that wasn't going to happen.

He glanced up at the tall ceiling, painted with naked figures of angels and saints. Allen flushed and hid a giggle with the back of his hand.

"Allen…" Germaine hissed at him, this time lower and with more venom.

"S-sorry!" he stuttered, hoping she wouldn't hit him in the church, in front of all these people. His sister's eyes softened ever so slightly at this for some reason, but just as Allen was going to let his curiosity over come him, a loud sob echoed throughout the chapel, ripping into the ears of everyone who was present. Germaine looked up with eyes now narrowed, murmuring something sounding like the Princess' name.

He peered around Germaine's wide, black morning dress to see where the crying were beginning from. His eyes couldn't see anything, there were too many people in the way. Yet the cries, wails actually, grew louder and louder, until at last Germaine sneered in that direction and yanked his arm towards the staircase, away from the center booth where the Royal Family sat.

The girl pulled him forth, keeping a tight grip on his wrist until they were at the second level of the church with a perfect view of the on-going of the people dwelling below.

Once Germaine let him go, he rubbed his wrist, pouting and shooting a weak glare to his sister.

"Get rid of that attitude before I take care of it for you, you brat." She bent down to his level just to chastise him. Allen chewed on the inside of his soft cheek to keep from replying something witty. That usually got him a slap to the side of the head, a ringing ear, and a sore bottom for the week. He nodded silently. With a nod of her own, she sternly instructed him to stay at where he was while she went on to do something.

She was already gone from his side when he sighed loudly. Geez. Who put dirt in her drawers this morning? Allen looked around the upper level, barely stopping to take in the stain-glass windows that had actually taken a pretty bit of money to get made. He didn't really think of things like that since he was a 6 year old with a current craving for excitement. What did capture his sight was the velvet looking seats arranged in rows. Many of which where filling up with lesser, not as rich aristocrats and highbloods. Their faces looked just as grim as the ones below but unlike those people, these fellows appeared troubled by something more then the death of the Queen.

What that might be, he sure didn't know what. Again. 6 years old. Not much was going through his mind on the matter other then why Germaine was acting much more frustrated then her norm.

Once more, that would drastically change.

The bawling was still stirring below and against the better knowledge that Germaine would give him a good wallop for his actions, he snuck over to the edge to see what was going on.

The Queen's coffin, the purest white stone and gold, had just arrived, twelve burly men of the highest order bring the box into the church. Right away, Allen spotted his father, tall and dressed in an unfamiliar black and red uniform. The symbol of the country, the sign of the Royal family, was large on his back. His father looked serious and stared deeply into the box he and the rest of the men were holding. They climbed the small set of steps to the stage in the front of the room, and laid the casket onto the marble table.

A little to the side, several family members of some foreign court were lined up; a regal women, who according to the very large gown she wore (not to mention the amount of jewelry on her body) that she was the queen of this unknown kingdom. Along with her were a jumble of girls ranging from his age to that of 19.

His eyes sweep over them quickly enough. They didn't hold his attention. Things rarely did back then. What did manage to sway his gaze however, was the blue-haired Prince. He appeared with the same regal elegance as that of his mother (?) but there was softness embedded in a face no older then 12. The dark blue of his hair sweep over his forehead, highlighting the same colored eyes Allen could see from his spot.

He continued watching him, now suddenly more captured with how little the Prince moved. Hands were clasped behind his back, while a sad frown locked onto his mouth. _Whatever he was looking at sure made him look grumpy, _Allen thought rather blankly.

In the background in his ear, he could hear the lessened waves of sobs.

A priest came out form the side, followed by serval other members of the clergy. Everyone stood as he began to speak, a boy around his age holding open a large bible so the priest could read from.

Around him, people stood in unison while Allen stayed where he was, ideally watching the tiny figures and adding voices in his mind for game. But it got boring after a while so he stopped.

He absentmindedly pulled at the itchy cream cravat at his throat and scratched the side of his head. His whole outfit was annoying. From the cravat to the tight vest and shirt to the knee-high boots Germaine forced him into that morning. What was with all the black anyways? He knew black and yellow were the colors of the land, and he liked them ok. Yellow was a happy color. But all this black was giving him a headache. He rested his head against the bars that made up the barrier keeping anyone from falling over.

He was hungry too.

Allen grumbled on the gold imprinted on the bars, feeling as if he should've ate more bread before departing from his home.

There was a scream and gasps from under him.

Pulling him from his thoughts, Allen looked down and frowned. Someone had opened the coffin and the Queen was in there, all beautiful golden curls arrayed as if angels themselves decorated them and white skin that made snow look like mud. Even from the distance he knew she had been nice. The sweep of her painted red lips spoke as much. People where gathering around her, laying flowers and such at the the foot of the stairs.

However, it wasn't the mountain of flowers around a dead body that had him staring. It was a girl.

It would be childish and insane to say it was love at first sight. Allen didn't even understand the idea of that.

But.

Whatever it was, it drew him to this sobbing babbling mess of a child, one was currently bawling, fighting tooth and nail against anyone who held her back, and was making a complete wreck of what was suppose to be a memorable departure ceremony. What must've been a honey halo on her head was now in disheveled madness, wisps of sunlight hair sticking to her swollen, wet, red face from all the crying. Her attire was in no better shape; the fancy mourning dress was wrinkled, lifted in some places due to bouts of kicking small furious legs, and in utter shambles.

A governess was forcing the little Princess as bay, but to all, it was futile. Her Royal Highness had fight inside of her, one he thought was suitable for a future ruler. Her tears though...

They left an agonizing prickling in his neck from the numb thought of having to keep on watching her spill those crystals from her own blue pools. Why wasn't anyone there? Not whispering in her ear to stay quiet like the old women with white in her hair was probably doing. Or gaining pitiful looks like the Prince and half the room was passing over her, and to Allen's shame, he saw something like that pass over his Father's expression.

After another fast overview of the room, Allen saw that annoyance laid out on some pale-white masks. He wrinkled his nose as he felt the prickling feeling in his neck shift into something much more fierce and snapping. Who were any of these people to judge this girl? This sweet and deeply hurt girl? She just lost her mama. She had every right to scream over that fact. So why weren't there anyone trying to help her?

The Princess was hurting and that in turn, for whatever reason, hurt him. So it was only natural to do something about that.

His mind was racing through a thousand situations to what could, would, happen afterwards. Allen at the moment couldn't care less. Not right then anyways.

His feet moved towards the sculpted staircase where Germaine had lead them through. It was only with a terrified peek in his older sister's direction did he relax a tiny bit, seeing her back toward him, seemingly whispering with a cloaked figure. As if her distraction was the perfect excuse he needed to leave, Allen did just that.

Scrambling down the stairway, keeping a smooth grip on the gold and black granite encrusted railing, the breath was pushed out of his chest with each stomping step he took on descending. The cream bundle of cloth jumped against the underside of his heaving jaw. As he neared the lower steps, the sound of his heels clicking on the marble floors alerted the surrounding people of his descent. He felt the rush of blood fill his cheeks as their stares and critiquing glares followed him.

The embarrassment only grew when there was a low snapping call of, "Allen!" It was coming from behind him and he was sure as the sky was blue that he wasn't about to turn and met Germaine's fuming presence. It snipped at his back and had him hurrying faster to the front of the chapel, picking a yellow rose from one of many flower decorations adorning the church.

He almost yelped when a thorn from the flower bite into his tender flesh. Instead of whining, Allen switched it to his other hand, sticking his wounded finger into his mouth.

"Allen!" The voice sounded furious...and close. Which wiped every thought of turning around and pushed his forward on his mission.

Eyes trailed him. He could feel them piercing his back as he continued closer and closer to where the Princess and the Queen were. Surprisingly the guards didn't come forward until the last second, most likely 'cause he was so small and managed to stay out of line of sight. Or. Because they were confused on why this child was quickly approaching the dead Queen.

Allen could see the Princess now. From this range he could see the red splotches smeared over the apples of her cheeks, the sky-blue coloring of her eyes (much prettier than that foreign Prince's), that her sunshine hair famed a perfect heart shaped face. From this range he saw the crocked tiara perched on her brow, glittering opal and gold under the lights streaming from the multicolored windows. Her poor black dress, only the softest of cottons for Princess of course, was wrinkled the same way his raggedy trousers and shirt were after a long sword sparring match with his Father.

And still, no one came to sooth her.

And by God, he was going to do something about that. The connection to this girl strengthened. He felt an overwhelming sense of protecting this creature who was no older then he was.

It was only then the young boy realized he was _standing right before her _(and the whole First and Second Estates but that was besides the point) and was being currently sniffled at. Allen's mouth dried instantly at the way her baby blues took him in, and in the manner she was looking him over. It felt like his heart had stopped mid-beat. For the several seconds they stared, his heart ceased living. When he blinked, slowly, feeling unreal, the red organ restarted with a punch to his face. The look, the wide-eyed disbelief, on his face was mirrored on her own features. And he knew (knew) that she had just experienced her own rebirth.

Yet there was still hesitation painted on her cherub features. Friend or foe?

His knees trembled, collapsing under him, and bringing him to the cold steps of the stage. With a quiver in his hand, he held out the yellow rose to her, choking out, "You are too gentle for tears, my Princess." Dramatic gasps strung out in the air, hastily followed by murmurs, with even the priest no longer keeping up the pretend of ignoring them. The old man stopped in his sermon to openly stare in their direction. Out the corner of his eye, Father was watching him, a very weird mask of shock slipped over his face.

A hand landed roughly on his shoulder, yanking him up from his noble, chivalrous posture, and twirled him around to met a very angry pair of brown eyes. Germaine's equally brown hair choppily cupped the sides of her face. The brown against the twitching fury in her expression had him pulling away. His heart felt like it dropped to his feet, flopping like a dead fish.

Oh no. Oh no. Oh no. He's going to die. Die. Oh God. He is going to di-

"He's going to sit with me." An angelic voice spoke, telling him that he was at least going to be seated with it in heaven when he dropped dead. The angel cleared its throat rather rudely. "_I said_, he's going to sit with _me_. Let him go and leave." Allen had never seen Germaine's face look so... Startled. Her chocolate eyes found themselves into anger soon enough though. But she released him, moving on to take ahold of the sides of her gown and give a curtsy so low, her spine was almost completely bent.

"Your Highness, your wish is my command." She sounded bitter. She straightened up and turned away without another word, leaving a wake of whispers behind lace fans.

"You," the same angel said. The breath in his chest froze and the dead heart withered further at his feet. Slowly, agonizingly slowly, he turned, amazed at the way the Princess locked gazes with him. "We'll sit over here." A single pale hand reached out in his direction. The old governess gasped, unable to handle to scandal. She began to say something when Allen slipped the rose carefully into her fingers, making sure to keep her digits around the thorns. The Princess giggled for some reason. "Your hand, stupid," she smiled as she said it though.

For the next few moments he was in shock. Fuzzily, he recognized that she grasped his hand tightly in hers and lead them to a throne seated to the side. The Princess sat upon it with a back so straight, it looked like God Himself was peering down her backbone. Allen shuffled his feet awkwardly next to her, having to wait a few minutes before the old priest started to drone on again about the beauty and righteousness of the former Queen Ann. It took even longer until the judgmental eyesight of most of the church finally shifted elsewhere, but Allen knew the one thing taking up most of their narrow-minded heads was how this common born boy could caught the eye of Her Royal Highness.

From across the way, he spied the foreign Prince, in all of his blue glory, who caught his stare and shot Allen a wink his way, those ocean eyes then moving to lay on the Princess. Allen licks his dry lips nervously. Why was he looking at them (_her_) like that? He moved his gaze to the Princess, hoping she would clear up something.

The Princess, to his surprise, was watching the coffin at the center of the room with perfect concentration, the complete opposite of the little girl who was breaking down a few moments ago.

The Princess was called up to make a speech, her mother's adviser, a man with long purple hair draping down his back in a ponytail and dressed in deep plum and black silk clothing, guided her to the front, passing Allen a creepy smile that also reached his strange violet eyes.

The Princess' speech was short and to the chase.

"Mother, you will be missed... You were the finest Queen Lucifenia had ever had, but you won't be the last... Mother, please watch over your kingdom and guide me to the right path... Allow me to make the right choices as a wife_",_ (here she boldly looked at the blue-haired prince, causing giggles from some of his younger sisters and sharp glares from the rest of the females in his family. All the while he himself looked amused. Allen didn't know how to feel about this one.) "mother, and future Queen."

By the way her face turned bored and the words pressed from her mouth sounded awkward, Allen could bet his cow that she had it memorized. It was probably written by that snake-like adviser. Sounding as if she finished, the Princess strode over to where her mother was in the box.

"My mother was traditional...and so in her honor," the way she said this was flowing, a nice contrast to before, and Allen knew these words were hers, "I shall wait until my 15th birthday to become crowned as this country's Queen." The looks of shocking confusion on the faces of the adults, the governess, the adviser and his fellow cabinet members, the Knights, his father, were plain examples to how much of this she kept to herself.

Allen giggled behind his hand, thinking, _Speak your mind Your Highness! _

Somehow reading these thoughts, the Princess glanced over at him. He froze mid-giggle, terrified at a expression of annoyance at him for doing so. Then to his dismay, astonishment really, she giggled. Giggled.

It sounded like bells.

If he forced himself to remember, he could see the grimaces fall over the rest of the finely adorned aristocratic audience. For, seeing a tiny Princess laugh over her mother's grave must've looked odd.

He didn't pay attention to that though. All in his mind was made up of _her_.

Afterward, meaning a couple of days after the 'infamous funeral of Queen Anne,' he is taken into the palace by his Father on the orders of Her Highness, Princess Rilliane Lucifen d'Autriche .

It was the start of the end.

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**Sorry for the lateness guys. Dont have my computer that much anymore and now all the writing will be on my phone. I hope the wait was worth this monster. This is also on ao3, and I uasally update there first, so check that out. Im VocaloidSweetie there too 3 Thanks for reading! Next chapter will be up a lot soone then this one was.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3: I feed the rich and fuck the poor**

It was only two years into Rilliane's reign that the famine attacked mercilessly and with all the brutality of a crass, ill-tempered warlord.

The Princess was only eight when she was put in charge of what food distributions go where, of how much the palace (the aristos) could spare, of how much the government should tax the people of Lucifenia. And with the rotten mess making up the crops in the fields, this was much more of a challenge than one would think for a new monarch, especially one as young as his Princess.

Her advisers, cabinets members, and of course, Allen's father, one of the kingdom's best, were brought up to the plate to help evaluate the situation with the child-ruler of one of the world's most influential and powerful nations.

That meeting taking place right then in the council room. Just a few steps away. Right there. Yes. There...

Allen couldn't help himself from keeping his eyes away from the double wooden doors. The bottom of his boots toed the grass at his feet while his fingers curled over the marble bench on the humongous water fountain just behind him. The boy took shallow breaths, trying in vain to keep calm.

But his Princess...

He glanced again at the double doors on the other side of the granite infused pillars. The steps leading up to them looked new and posh. Allen stared at them blankly. A hand found its way to the white cravat strangling his neck and let his nerves undo the stupid thing while the other released the death grip clutching the bench to tug off the soft yellow jacket. Folding it quickly and laying it next to himself, Allen's hand finally came to rest on the hilt of his sword.

Father had only just let him train at the palace, although...Allen secretly wished that his Father had given him the green light to do so when he first came to the court. The Princess always chatted about how dashing the squires and knights looked when sparing.

What.

The flush that attaches itself to face wouldn't leave as he shook his head violently. No. That was too boorish of him to think about. Nope. Nope.

He stood up and began to pace around the enormous fountain, heart in his throat when he firmly remembered why he was so worried in the first place. This meeting concerned everyone in the kingdom, it had to go well, hopefully things went better than well.

Then he wondered who he would hear the outcomes from; his father or the Princess. Deep down, he wanted it to be the Princess, so that way, he could comfort her with the troubles this meeting was surely creating.

Since they first met each other, Allen couldn't bring himself to feel nothing but loyalty and love for her…. Ahem.

Why _she _took a liking for _him_, Allen couldn't imagine why. Maybe his appearance to her own made him seem endearing. Maybe his difference from the court gossips pleased her. It didn't matter. He was glad just to be in the same room as her. She called him to serve her whenever she needed him, even demanding it to be his face she saw when she woke. The scandal when she announced this rebounded against the walls of the city for months, as proper protocol deemed the chief lady-in-waiting to help her in the morning.

And him being a boy bothered people too.

Allen paused his pacing, looking up to the doors, hoping that they were open and he could rush to her side.

There was no movement from the doors and he groaned in mixed annoyance and desperation. The fate of his Princess was stitching itself in history right now, it was only natural for him to panic over these kinda things! What got decided in there would reflect on her, the things decided would show the other surrounding countries how strong the Princess' rule was. He chewed nervously on his bottom lip.

He was afraid for his Princess. She deserved some happiness, no matter how little it seemed to others. After losing her mother, the Princess tried to stay strong (it was expected of her) but...

The boy knew in the new light of mornings, she, a tiny hunched form cowering in bed, would cry softly and whimper sounds of "Mother" and "Grandmeré". It was only afterwards, as he stepped into the room, would she finally stop, reaching to him and pulling him into bed with her to finish sleeping, did peace take her.

So if the people needed to be taxed a little more than usual, so be it. There were still the echoes of bemoaned sighs about the lack of the Princess' favorite dishes and material for her dress ringing through his ears. If she could be happy with some more things, then the population would mirror their monarch's mirth and rejoice as well. Lucifenia did love their monarchs after all. It wouldn't be a problem.

So why was this taking so much time?

"All of you are blasted imbeciles!" a high pitched voices screamed into the gardens.

There was his answer.

The Princess held the layers of skirts in her grasp, spitting insults and burning scarlet in the apples of her cheeks. "How dare you! All of you get out of my sight and if I see anyone, I will throw you out and host a _basted_ banquet for my troubles!" she continued, still screaming.

His Father was making his was out the door and stopped at the threshold at her words. The man's brown eyes appeared black, as if something consumed his soul with a dark wrath. Behind him, the rest of the cabinet sat at the large table, quiet like sulking children.

Allen nervously stayed where he stood for a moment, unsure with this new development. What had happened? He swallowed thickly, snapping out of his daze and started towards Her Highness.

She turned around, glare bright and deadly in her gaze until she met his mirroring blue eyes. "Allen," she breathed. The girl dropped her skirts, hands already gripping his wrist tightly. "No one is too bother me! And I expect to get what I want or else!" Her Highness turned away, still holding him and stomped away from the grownups.

Allen knew not to look behind him (his Princess what to his front, where he should always look) but the child within him pleaded to turn around for a glance. The guilt in his heart boiled over from the sight of woven emotions of frustration and exhaustion on his Father's face. It made the thin lines on face look deeper and more apparent. He almost stopped the Princess so he could ask his Father not to look like that. Yet there was something within hissing not to, there wasn't a need too. His Princess needed him, not a grown man who understood everything.

She yanked his arm harder, pausing his thoughts and shoving an unmanly yelp from his mouth. Her Highness didn't stop to see if he was bothered but that was ok, Allen knew there was something bigger to take care of. Her tiny fingers on his wirst tightened as they passed bowing and curtsying servants. Some of who shot him a look of pity. Allen scowled inwardly at this, practically seeing their words stapled on their faces, _Poor boy must handle such a spoiled ruler..._ Well they were fools. Being near Her Highness meant the world to him, should mean the world to anyone, anyone who had enough brains to understand that.

Unfortunately, the girl in question was still nested in a ball of fury, resulting in fueling the stupid court gossips in their next unabashed tales. The Princess basically shoved an unsuspecting maid carrying clean towels out of the way to reach her room. So the snobs of the court were going to have lots of fun with that.

She screamed at the doorman upon seeing them and in turn they jumped, pushing open the doors for them to enter. Her hand finally released him, going to rake through her short, disheveled locks. She collapsed onto the giant known as her bed, and screamed as loud as the day she say she came to this world. It echoed around the suit for a moment after she was done. The world outside fell into a frozen realm, afraid of what was happening and what was to come.

As they should.

Allen flinched when she fell onto the bed and when she screamed, he stared, scared, and heart breaking inside his chest. What had they done to hurt her like this? He wanted to cry.

"Allen, these people are idiots. All. Of. Them," the Princess croaked from the bed, eyes firmly planted on the ceiling. He swallowed, looking up to see what she was glaring at and bit the inside of his check as he only saw the breathtaking mosaic (which had taken over 4 months to complete and a more than his sister's farm to pay for) painted on there, depicting the long and glorious history of Lucifenia.

"It's not my fault there's a stupid _famine _going on," she groaned out that word. "I just want my cakes for dessert every other day but _no_. If the peasants are hungry, give them cake _I_ say! _Hmm_! And Prince Kyle," Allen felt his grimace at the name, "is suppose to come next week! I don't have time to prepare a speech for the commoners! Grandmeré always said it was alright if the kingdom was a little down now and then, but as long as no one else knew... It was ok!" The Princess threw up her arms and widen her eyes at the exclaims. She rolled over on her side, wrinkling her dress and bedsheets. "Allen, come here."

He eyes stared at the spot next to her for a moment before rubbing his arm shyly and doing what she asked. After he was laying next to her, he turned his head to her, finding hers to be in the same position, and smiled while the butterflies in his stomach frantically flew.

"I want to be happy, Allen, when Mother and Grandmeré were Queens and happy, everyone else was happy. So I must be happy for the people, Allen," she muttered softly, eyes boring into his. He felt a shiver lick up the line of his spine at these tense words. "Everyone loves their ruler and when the ruler is happy, they are." Allen found himself nodding along to this logic, it was the same one he was thinking a few hours ago.

"But they said a famine makes the commoners angry, and I say, 'Then I will give them the leftovers, from my clothes to food, who cares? They should be honored to be receiving anything from me' But they looked annoyed at me, _annoyed, _and said that their pride will never allow it. Pride?!" she snorted loudly and started to laugh.

"Princess..." He watched in apprehension as she continued to giggle.

She turned over on her stomach and folded her arms under her chin. Giggles still ripples through her. "The common blood have no pride. It is just simple logic. What do they have to be proud of?" Her face wondered back into waves of a sudden sleepiness and profundity, but it was the blue in her eyes that made him think he was looking into the bottomless ocean. "They got angry when I said that and told me I should let them handle things since I am only a _child_." She pushed her face into her arms. The Princess' breathing was shallow and almost hissing next to him.

"My Princess," Allen finally whispered, dread dripping into his soul, as he nuzzled her side with his head. "Please listen to me my Princess." Please oh please don't look like this... "You may be a child but a child can still hold their caretakers' heart in their palm. You are wise but they think you're just naive. Know that you aren't and you'll do what you need to follow your wishes. You desire that much, I promise you do." He kept his head in the folds of her side, bracing himself for any rebuke for speaking outta term. His eyes stayed tightly shut and tried to calm himself down by taking in her sweet honey scent.

The blood in his veins rushed to his ears, only hearing that over the stillness in the room.

"Do you...mean that?" He heard a feathery voice speak.

"Yes, Your Highness."

Silence. Air stuck inside his lungs.

"When will you call me Rilliane? You're special Allen, you can call me that." There were fingers in his hair, gently pulling his face away from her body to met his eyes. "I'm waiting Allen."

His lungs refused to work in that second, it all was unreal.

"R-Rilliane." The name was just as sweet in his mouth as the sugar cookies he managed to sneak off with once in a blue moon. There were still the nerves tugging along anxiety in the pit of his stomach. What if this was a test to see if he was wort-

"Hehee- Hahaahahaa!" The Princess rolled on her back, clutching her middle, unable to cease the bell-like laughter from spilling past her red mouth. "You- you l-look so funn-y! Hahaha!" Her blonde halo ruffled up as she went on twitching against the bedsheets.

Allen was quick to stutter, apology at the ready, yet... He couldn't. She was too happy like this, a sharp contrast from moments before. He let out a sign of relief in his heart.

Maybe he was right to open his mouth for once. Father always said it was a man's actions which backed his words, that words alone couldn't really do anything. Germaine always said that words could make magic happen, but then she would look at him with an eye roll and comment how he would only ever allow someone else speak for him.

However, with this, Allen allowed himself to believe, that maybe, just maybe, they were wrong.

(It was to be the first time he really doubted his family's words.)

The Princ... Rilliane's laughing at last died down to some loose giggles then nothing, retreating to her side again and moving to hold his hand in-between their bodies.

"Oh my dear Allen," here a chuckle escaped. "You'll always help me won't you?"

"You know the question to that my Pri- Rilliane."

Giggle. "I know... Hey Allen?"

"Yes?"

"Do you know what I'm thinking?"

A smile bite into his lips before he broke out in giggles. He knew alright. And it was going to make for an interesting turn of events.

"A party for the surround royals sounds prefect don't it?"

"Certainly, my Princess." She was too excited, almost trembling in the rush of giddiness, that she skipped over his formality.

* * *

**A/N: Next chapter- dance dance! Lalala~ one of a few (?) to come! And we meet more people! Yay!**

**Sorry this took a while! Got outta school last week and I went to Akon in Dallas on Saturday, so I was busy as a bee. And chapters might be shorter like this one, but it just depends on how much I want in each chapter and if I want them out faster for you peeps. But I should be pushing out more chapters soon. Maybe 2 a month? Idk don't take my word for it, I'm a lazy loser.**

**Leave SOMETHING to this PLEASE IT MAKES ME FEEL FLUFFY INSIDEE SKDNSKSNSL**

**Thanks.**


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